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Han Yan chuckled softly, greatly amused by Dong Hai’s solemn little face, which seed to take itself far too seriously for one so young. Reaching out, he patted the boy’s shoulder and said with a soft smile, "Thank you."
Glancing at Lin Xin, his tone lightened. "Don’t go too far. I’ll be leaving first. The two of you watch over each other, hm?"
They nodded in unison, their movents almost like a carefully rehearsed dance. The sight made Han Yan’s lips twitch with a faint smile. It was simple, almost childlike in its innocence, and for a mont, his heart softened.
Although bound to him only by marriage, Lin Xin’s figure still carried the air of one not yet grown. Han Yan could not help but see him as soone too young to be burdened with such ties.
As Han Yan prepared to leave, Lin Xin lifted his hand in a gentle wave. Golden curls frad his face, catching the last rays of sunlight, and his vivid green eyes shone warmly as he smiled. Even though his fra was still slender, almost fragile in its youth, there was a quiet liveliness to him that made him seem both delicate and endearing.
The soft curve of his lips, paired with the way the sunlight danced in his hair, gave him an almost ethereal charm. Han Yan returned the smile, then drew the old gate shut with a quiet creak.
Stepping beyond the threshold, he was greeted by the tranquil village road. The evening sun hung low, gilding the rooftops with amber fire, while a faint breeze carried the subtle scent of cooking fires from nearby hos.
Behind the gate, Lin Xin lingered, hand slowly lowering as his gaze followed Han Yan’s retreating figure. At his side, Dong Hai stood motionless, lips pressed tight as though containing thoughts too serious for his age.
Only when Han Yan had grown faint in the distance did Lin Xin reach down to ruffle his hair, a quiet comfort, before turning back into the old house. The courtyard sank once more into a deep, serene silence.
Han Yan, however, did not imdiately head toward the Han household. There was sothing else that weighed more heavily on his mind. Guided by the fragnted mories left behind by the departed Han Yan, he turned his steps toward the mountains, his feet carrying him steadily along the dirt path that wound upward into the wilds.
As he ventured deeper, where most villagers hardly dared to tread for the paths were treacherous, the crisp scent of pine filled the air. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy above, casting dappled patterns on the ground. The distant call of birds echoed between the cliffs. Han Yan felt no fear; perhaps it was the work he had done, or the strength lent by the mories of the deceased Han Yan.
He finally stopped before a great pine tree, standing tall and resolute amidst the rugged mountains. Its gnarled roots sprawled wide, little creatures weaving their hos among its branches. The tree seed to have endured countless storms, yet it remained upright and unyielding a quiet witness to the passage of ti.
Han Yan paused to admire its steadfast presence, listening to the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Then, squatting at the roots, he used his hands to dig lightly until he uncovered an old, dirt-stained pouch.
Shaking it gently before opening it, he revealed up to ten silver taels inside.
A faint surprise crossed his mind; this body he now inhabited had not been foolish. The deceased Han Yan had thought ahead.
It was pitiful, though, that he had died before he could use it. Han Yan’s chest tightened slightly as he considered the irony: soone so careful, yet undone before his plans could bear fruit.
He wondered if this had been ntioned in the novel; he could not tell. He breathed in the fresh, pine-scented air, glancing down at the ancient robe he still was not accustod to. Touching his long hair, he let out a soft sigh.
He longed to see his reflection, but since entering this world, he had not found a mont to inspect his appearance amidst the trials he had already faced. He reminded himself he would do so later, after returning from the Han household.
Adjusting his robe, Han Yan rose to his feet, steadying himself for whatever lay ahead. He took in the lively mountain scenery one last ti.
He spotted a few wild mushrooms on a nearby tree, carefully plucked them, wrapped them in a large leaf, brushed off the dirt, and tucked them into his robe. A small smile tugged at his lips as he thought of the surprise he would give Lin Xin and little Dong Hai when he got ho.
A sudden rustle ca from the trees behind him. He froze, every sense alert. Footsteps... but who would co this deep into the mountains? Or was it rely the wind stirring the branches?
Shadows flickered among the twisted branches, as though unseen eyes lingered upon him. Han Yan narrowed his gaze, continuing to watch intently, yet the forest floor remained empty. Nothing stirred beneath the canopy.
Suddenly, a flock of birds flapped their wings and took to the sky, their cries scattering into the distance. The sudden movent broke the tension, and the forest seed to settle once more, returning to its quiet calm.
Han Yan exhaled softly, eyes resting on the spot where he had thought sothing lingered. The brief unease pressed lightly in his chest, a reminder of how unfamiliar this world still felt.
After confirming that the forest bore no imdiate threat, he lowered his gaze to the silver taels one final ti. A faint mix of surprise and gratitude crossed his mind at the foresight of the deceased Han Yan.
With a quiet motion, he tucked the pouch away and began his steps along the mountain path, steadily making his way toward the Han household, his thoughts lingering on what awaited him there.
A few minutes later, from the tangle of shrubs beside the path, a solitary cat appeared. Its fur was nearly black in the dim light, eyes gleaming like molten gold. It followed him with a gaze before slipping silently back into the greenery.
As he left the mountain, heading straight for the Han household, Han Yan muttered under his breath, Seriously? No golden finger, no space magic, no miraculous powers? Just , my two feet... and whatever this world throws at ? He rembered the novels his little sister often narrated, and the contrast made him shake his head, a faint grin tugging at his lips despite his frustration.
By the ti he reached the courtyard gate, the scene before him was far from calm. Shouts, cursing, and clattering sounds filled the air, echoing off the walls of the old hall.
Villagers had gathered there, their voices rising in lively chaos. It was noisy, bustling, and unmistakably... unfortunate. Han Yan let out a quiet, weary sigh, already anticipating the headaches that awaited him inside.
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